


All That I've Got

by MadamRed



Series: Soulmate AU [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Canon Compliant, First Kiss, Fluff, Implied Sexual Content, Internal Monologue, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Tags will be added as we go, a lot of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-10
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2018-10-02 07:20:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10212410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadamRed/pseuds/MadamRed
Summary: Once you meet the person you’re destined to be with for life, and the more you interact with them, your soulmate’s favourite thing about you starts appearing somewhere on your body, as if you were, very slowly, getting a tattoo.But not everyone is lucky when it comes to timing. Viktor Nikiforov, for example, started getting his mark at 17. It appeared on his foot of all places; a burning sensation that made him miss a jump during a competition.





	1. A single blue rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Same universe as [I Caught Fire (In Your Eyes)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9940307) but with beautiful Viktuuri this time around. This is probably going to take a few chapters...
> 
> Once again, the title is from a [The Used song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mlyyd-y6bIU) because ❤️️

_I’ll be just fine pretending I’m not. I’m far from lonely and it’s all that I’ve got._

 

* * *

Viktor Nikiforov, age 17, had just won another Gold medal, this time at the European Championships. The thrill of each win still left him breathless. Yakov assured him he would one day get used to it all but right now, in front of the cameras, blue-rose bouquet close to his hammering heart as the flashes blinded him, he truly hoped he never would.

That was the day he met the one and only Christophe Giacometti.  
That was the day he _thought_ he had met his soulmate.  
That was the day he would always remember as his first real disappointment.

Viktor had skated with everything he had again, relinquishing sleep and ignoring the pain in his body as he glided on the ice. That was also the day he flopped a jump he had been nailing since he was 14 due to unexpected pain in his right foot. He had to touch the ice with his hand in order not to fall completely.

In the quiet of the locker room, right after the kiss and cry, he removed his skate and found that the sole of his foot was stained blue. There were just a few specks among the blisters and tape, but they didn’t come off with water when he tried to clean them.

He felt short of breath. It could only be... his soulmark! _Finally._ He had been waiting for _so_ long, watching his friends and fellow competitors falling in love while he tried to focus on his love for figure skating. He wanted to yell about it to the journalists for the whole world to know but decided against it after he thought about it.

If he got his mark in the middle of a competition, that meant his soulmate was somewhere in the venue, right?

That was the main reason why he threw one of the red roses from his bouquet at little Chris that day, after hearing his name being called out and seeing his eyes so full of admiration, as Viktor made his way back from the podium.

In spite of his hopes, however many times they met or talked, Viktor’s mark stayed the same. It was disheartening to realise that he hadn’t found his soulmate after all.

His mark usually hurt the most during competitions, a fact that drove him absolutely crazy! How was he supposed to meet the love of his life if he was stuck on the ice for over four and a half minutes unable to run into the audience to look for them?

The most disconcerting thing, though, happened when he was trying to sleep after a gruelling day at practice. He would often feel a prickling sensation while he turned and tossed, prompting Makkachin to wake him up from his awful nightmares about injuries and a boring life off the ice.

Those nights, when he woke up at four am covered in sweat and his dog’s kisses, always brought a new line to his mark.

He didn’t understand. He was taught that marks developed over time as you _interacted_ with your soulmate... how was he interacting with them alone in his room?

After confiding in Yakov, they both decided that Viktor should see a doctor. A million and a half tests were ordered and they all came back normal. There was nothing wrong with Viktor, other than the fact that his mark was developing by itself, or so it seemed.

“You know, I wouldn’t be too worried about it,” the doctor told him calmly after going over the results of his tests one more time. “It is not often talked about, but there are many cases like yours.”

“Really?” 19-year-old Viktor asked, his voice full of hope.

“Yes, it is a common occurrence for people who are in the public eye. You may not be interacting with your soulmate directly, but if they are thinking about you enough...” the doctor trailed off, before he added as an afterthought, “The bond you two share must be incredibly strong.”

“D-do you think my soulmate is going through a similar thing?” Viktor asked, not knowing if he wanted to hear an affirmative or a negative answer.

“It all depends, really. Is there anyone you admire in that way?” the doctor told him, and Viktor felt how his stomach turned at that.

“No,” he said in a small voice, swallowing down the bitter taste of disappointment once more.

“Well, I still believe you shouldn’t worry about it,” the doctor said with a smile as he got up, prompting Viktor to do the same as he handed the young skater his results. “If the bond you share is capable of making itself known despite the distance and the lack of interaction, I’m confident you will meet them at some point.”

Viktor nodded, put on a smile and thanked the doctor for his time. He was quiet in the drive back home after he told Yakov about the results. His coach was glad nothing was wrong and advised him, again, not to dwell too much on it, repeating that meeting your soulmate didn’t mean you would spend the rest of your life with them.

“Look at Lilia and me, for instance...” his coach started saying for the umpteenth time since Viktor first told him about his mark.

Sure, he was aware of the fact that many people even _divorced_ their soulmates. But he at least wanted to meet them first before abandoning all hope!

Yakov dropped him off at his apartment, and Viktor walked up the front steps without really paying attention to what he was doing. He got on the lift, opened his door, and sort of got back to reality when he felt Makkachin’s cold nose against his hand.

_At some point..._

He knelt down and petted his dog, giving him a sad, little smile when he got saliva all over his face in return. After feeding him and making sure his dog had everything he needed, Viktor locked himself inside his room and didn’t emerge until the next morning.

That was the first and last time he would cry about his soulmate, he promised himself. Because, at 19, Viktor told himself he would _not_ wait around for them. For the first time in his life, Viktor felt the need to be _selfish._

So, he dated and did whatever he wanted, despite Yakov’s threats and aggressive words of advice about his lifestyle and the attention it was getting from the media.

No. Viktor would not listen to him or anybody for that matter. He only cared about surpassing his rivals and surprising the audience in competitions, which was the reason why he started choreographing his own routines.

He didn’t tell Yakov, but it also made his foot ache more and more. The pain in his usual landing foot was unconsciously fuelling his inspiration to do things differently, to skate to a song no one would deem appropriate for figure skating, to incorporate more difficult jumps, to soar among his competitors.

At the age of 27, Viktor Nikiforov had the skating world wrapped around his little finger. And he felt empty, especially so as his foot burned again after months of no development. He saw the mark taking shape for ten long years, the boring blue lines he had come to memorise now formed beautiful petals and had a little stem, too... A blue rose, a symbol of mystery. His soulmate apparently liked the enigmatic and the inexplicable.

He stared at it, his expression blank and devoid of any emotion as he put his socks on and finished getting dressed for the mandatory banquet.

 _I don’t care anymore,_ his own voice repeated stubbornly inside his head as he made his way down to the hall where the dinner party was to be held. Among the pleasantries and congratulations, his internal monologue consisted of:

 _I don’t care anymore._  
_I don’t care anymore._  
_I don’t care any—  
__Oh, no,_ _is that Japanese skater who got sixth place drunk?_

 _Why is Yuri dancing with him?_  
_Is that... Chris on a pole? Where did that come from? And_ oh, _who knew that Asian man had it in him?  
__Wait, why is he coming here?_

 _“Be my coach, Viktor!”_  he heard afterwards in accented English as the smaller man hugged him and challenged him to a dance-off from what he managed to get. And, despite Yakov’s protests, Viktor found himself nodding as his heart hammered like the day he met Chris.

That night, Viktor Nikiforov, age 27, renowned skater and Sochi GPF Gold medallist, danced with this complete stranger and, for the first time in his life, he didn’t dwell on his soulmark or wondered if this encounter would lead to something else.

He just let go... and smiled.

 

* * *

Months later, he tried not to think too much about that night until a certain viral video made its way into his life:

_[Katsuki Yuuri] Tried to Skate to Viktor’s FS Program [Stay Close to Me]_

 

The next thing he did was book a plane ticket to Hasetsu, Japan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Come yell at me about YoI over on tumblr: [madamredwrites](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/) ❤️️


	2. An unexpected guest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you _so_ much for the insane number of kudos, bookmarks and comments! I honestly didn't think that my silly idea would get so many people interested.
> 
> Anyway, here's chapter 2! A little guest joins our beloved couple in Hasetsu ;)

_So deep that I didn’t even bleed and catch me off guard, red handed, now I’m far from lonely._

 

* * *

It turned out that there weren’t any direct flights to Hasetsu, so Viktor had to settle for a very, _very_ long journey from St Petersburg to Moscow to Tokyo to Fukuoka and _then_ he finally got a connecting flight to the Saga prefecture. By the time he finally stepped out of the last plane, he was physically and emotionally exhausted.

The Russian skater breathed in slowly as he looked around the small airport, unable to recognise the strange symbols that surrounded him; while in Tokyo, every sign had had its English translation but here, there weren’t many. He felt lost for the first time since he had embarked on this journey and stepped into that first plane back in his home country.

He had been to Japan before, of course, for competitions, but he had never really _looked_ , always being dragged around by either Yakov or someone from the Russian team from one interview to another. And now... now he had dropped everything to come here, had even brought his dog with him.

 _And for what?_ he thought bitterly as he went towards baggage reclaim and tried to find a staff member to ask where he could find Makkachin.

 _For a promise,_ his brain reminded him.

He had promised himself that he would follow his gut instinct after he left that doctor’s office eight years ago, even if it meant going against logic, against Yakov, against his own competitive nature.

Viktor Nikiforov, five-time world figure skating champion, was now in Japan, jetlagged, and hoping Makkachin was alright after such a long and arduous journey. He was relieved when he saw his beloved dog again wagging his tail and sniffing the air; there was a reason why he had never dared take his pet around the world with him.

Makkachin seemed to be extremely happy to see him, too, since he ran when he saw his master and jumped, making them both fall on the floor. The poor Japanese woman who had brought Makkachin with her was fumbling, apologising profusely in a weird mix of English and Japanese that Viktor could not follow.

He got up, grabbed Makkachin’s leash firmly and sent one of his signature winks her way to distract her, prompting a heavy blush to appear on her cheeks as she bowed once more and moved away in a hurry. He watched her go in amusement until her figure was lost among the people mingling about the area.

His smile fell, then, as he moved quietly around the building until he found the exit and went in search of a taxi big enough to take him, his luggage and dog to his final destination.

“To Yuutopia Katsuki, please,” he said slowly in English. Makkachin was settled at the back of the big van he had managed to secure as his ride, and Viktor was feeling a lot more nervous than he had expected he would.

The butterflies he felt in his stomach did not help him calm down either. Scratch that. They were not like the butterflies he felt before stepping on the ice during a competition because this... this felt like _lead_ was pushing the organ down into his intestines. He recognised it. _Fear._ He hadn’t felt it since his Junior days but he knew what it was: plain and utter fear is what gripped his stomach in an iron fist.

“But that’s in Hasetsu, sir,” the taxi driver replied, looking into his blue eyes through the rearview mirror in disbelief.

“Yes, I am aware.” He smiled, hoping this stranger would agree to take him. He really didn’t want to spend another minute at an airport. He desperately wanted a bed and maybe a quick soak in the onsen if there was time before dinner.

“This is going to cost you, sir,” the driver warned him but still turned the key in the ignition, and the engine roared.

Viktor just smiled again and nodded, looking out of the window as they left the noisy building behind them and took the highway.

He sighed.

_Don’t I know it?_

 

* * *

His first encounter with Yuuri at the onsen hadn’t been the best in terms of timing. When he thought back to it, he laughed at the absurdity of it and at the way the Japanese skater had blushed like crazy when he raised his naked body from the onsen’s warm water.

Yuuri’s behaviour was even stranger when Viktor tried to approach him in the room he was going to be staying in.

He was like a completely different person. He must’ve really drunk his sorrows away that night at the banquet because this shy, quiet version of Yuuri was not what Viktor had witnessed back in December.

Viktor felt giddy with excitement as he lay on his bed. Yuuri _intrigued_ him, in a way that he hadn’t felt in a very long while, and especially about another person.

What the Russian failed to notice, though, was that his mark had already changed in the short amount of time he had spent in Japan: The small stem of his blue rose now travelled all the way to the bottom of his foot, as if it were finally growing roots.

Viktor got out of bed, unaware of his soulmark’s progress since he hadn’t registered any pain other than the usual soreness from skating, and got ready to tackle what was probably going to be Yuuri's first official day of practice on the ice.

 

* * *

Yuri Plisetsky’s arrival in Japan was an unexpected but welcome surprise for Viktor, although the latter wasn’t true for Yuuri.

The Japanese skater felt incredibly nervous around the younger Russian. He remembered the way Yuri had screamed at him in that bathroom back in Sochi. It had been unnerving for Yuuri to be yelled at in his state of mind at the time and by a _teenager_ of all people.

And now, here they were, sharing the onsen and feeling completely exhausted by Viktor’s gruelling practice schedule.

“Oi, piggy.” Yuri’s deep voice startled him. The Japanese skater had been too wrapped up on how to improve his jumps and had zoned out completely.

“Yes, Yurio?” he asked, turning towards him.

“That’s not my name,” Yuri murmured under his breath for the millionth time that week and sighed, knowing it was impossible to get his message across through those two’s thick skulls. “Whatever, never mind.”

The teen proceeded to lower his body into the water all the way up to his chin and looked away, his cheeks a slightly darker shade of pink than they had been a few minutes ago. Yuuri’s eyebrows furrowed. Was his namesake... embarrassed about something? He didn’t think the teen was capable of such a mundane emotion.

“You can ask me whatever you want, _Yuri,”_  the Japanese told him, putting special emphasis on his actual name, which surprised the blond.

“H-how did it feel when you got your mark?” Yuri asked him after staring at him for a minute, as if he were trying to gauge if Yuuri was telling the truth, and then looked away again, unconsciously touching the barely-there black lines on his chest. Yuuri had seen them, but decided not to look at them for too long. Soulmarks were supposed to be private, and it was customary in Japan not to stare at people, _period._

“Oh, I haven’t got my mark yet.” He smiled, although it definitely did not reach his eyes. The teen gaped at him.

“Okay, I knew you were dense but, _this?_ This is ridiculous.” Yuri stretched his arm and grabbed his phone from the little pile of clothes nearby on the floor. The Japanese skater, who was resting his face on his arms on the edge of the onsen, didn’t have enough time to process what the blond was doing until he heard a camera shutter.

“What?! No!” Yuuri felt a blush spreading through his cheeks, up to his ears and all the way down to his neck and chest. “You can’t take pictures at the onsen! It’s not—”

“Relax, piggy. It’s not like I _actually_ want to have a picture of you naked, okay?” Yuri answered with a snort as he scrolled through his phone’s camera roll.

Yuuri covered his face with his hands and stopped his pleading at that. He should’ve been offended by the blond’s comment but he couldn’t find it in himself to say anything.

“Here.” Yuri’s voice surprised him once more as the Japanese brought his hands down from his face.

The blond shoved the phone on his face and it took Yuuri a minute to understand that the teen had taken a picture of his back. Yuuri’s usually pale complexion contrasted sharply with the grey of the rocks surrounding them.

“I-I don’t see what the point of the picture is...” he trailed off, unsure of what he was supposed to get from the picture.

Yuri sighed, brought his phone back to his face and zoomed in. He held it in front of the Japanese man’s confused expression again without saying a word and waited for his reaction.

Yuuri gasped. There, in the middle of his shoulder blades, were a few specks of black along with some faint lines.

“Unless you got a tattoo while drunk, which, really, it wouldn’t surprise me, that’s a soulmark,” Yuri said matter-of-factly, as if he were lecturing a kid and not a man eight years his senior.

“But I... _Boku wa_...” Yuuri couldn’t form full sentences, in any language apparently. He had been mark _less_ for such a long time, he figured he was one of those not-so-rare-cases of people who never got to meet their soulmates. Since _when_ had he had that on his back?!

“You didn’t even know it was there, did you?” Yuri fixed him with a glare, already regretting having brought up the topic in the first place.

“No, I didn’t, actually.” Yuuri’s big brown eyes looked at the other, still not fully understanding what was going on.

“Has your back hurt lately?” Yuri asked curiously. He had a suspicion but he needed to gather more information before reaching a conclusion.

“Well, yes. But with the practice we’ve been having... it’s only natural, isn’t it?” the Japanese skater reasoned. His mind still refusing to believe he had got his soulmark.

“Yeah, _sure,”_  Yuri replied with a small dose of sarcasm that the other man didn’t quite catch.

The blond dropped his phone on top of the towel he had brought with him and prayed that the piggy didn’t ask him about his mark, which was clearly visible against the skin of his chest. Yuri had had it for such a long time, he didn’t even remember when he got it, and no one really knew about it other than his grandpa, Yakov, and now he had to add piggy and Viktor to the list.

They were, thankfully, interrupted by Viktor, and the conversation quickly turned to other topics and then the two students left, wrapped in warm towels, leaving a somewhat confused Viktor behind.

Once the two younger skaters found each other at the dining hall again after getting changed into more comfortable clothes, they exchanged a look and nodded. A silent promise not to talk about either of their marks in public.

 

* * *

Yuri left Japan promptly after losing against the pig’s rendition of a _Katsudon_ Eros. He scoffed several times on the long journey home as he thought about his own performance, trying to figure out what the Japanese skater had done differently. He would have to ask Yakov to help him improve it, otherwise his dream of getting Gold on his Senior debut was going to be out of the window in no time.

He was unable to sleep and had a few hours to kill at Narita Airport, so he relied on his beloved phone to keep him distracted. After about half an hour of mindless scrolling through different social media apps, he decided to take a selfie.

Bad mistake. His hair was a complete mess, the bags under his eyes looked disgusting under the fluorescent lights of the Starbucks he was sitting at and his skin looked dry. He started cursing at everyone and everything back in Japan as he deleted the picture immediately.

The camera roll on his phone went back to the last picture he had taken, and suddenly, his slightly jetlagged mind made a connection as he stared at the piggy’s naked back. Those marks must’ve been recent enough if the pig didn’t remember them...

He hurriedly went to YouTube and started looking for Katsuki Yuuri’s past performances and studied them... _again,_ if he was being honest with himself. He would never admit the fact that he actually admired his namesake. But now, his gracefulness on the ice was _not_ what interested him.

Yuri remembered the Japanese skater’s SP costumes during the previous season. The pig had worn a weird black shirt that had a low back. He quickly found a video of the Senior GPF fiasco.

 _There,_ Yuri thought as he paused the video and brought the phone close to his face. Between the space of the pig’s shoulder blades, the smooth, shiny fabric that wrapped around his shoulders creating a V sort of open back, there was nothing.

He kept searching until he found one of the Japanese Nationals and Yuri found himself gaping at the screen.

There, clear as day, were a few specks of black. Someone would have to be really looking to notice them, but they were there. He took a screenshot of the video and compared it to the one he had taken at the onsen.

Now he was absolutely sure. The pig had got his mark at the banquet when he hugged Viktor.

There was no other explanation, especially if Yuri thought about the fact that there were now new lines and not just specks. The only other person the pig had interacted with while at the banquet had been Yuri himself, and his own mark had remained the same, so the teen was most definitely not the pig’s soulmate.

 _Thank goodness,_ he thought as he grabbed his stuff and walked towards his designated gate in a bit of a daze. He was trying to come up with a plan. He wanted to know what Viktor’s soulmark was.

He knew Yakov had seen it throughout the years, and Yuri had even caught a few glimpses here and there, too. After all, they did share a rink and a locker room for quite some time, so he was aware that Viktor had the mark on his right foot. He remembered watching him stumble on the ice and still getting Gold that year at Europeans.

Yuri smiled innocently as he put on his headphones. Since he didn’t know who his own soulmate was yet, he was going to have fun with those two instead. _ _  
_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know there hasn't been much Viktuuri yet, but that will change next chapter! ^^
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think in the comments! Feedback not only makes my day but it also helps me keep the story going.
> 
> Also, you are welcomed to try and guess what Yuuri's mark is going to be ;)
> 
> Come yell at me about YoI over on tumblr: [madamredwrites](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/) ❤️️


	3. What's in a name?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm so, so sorry about the wait. Life got hectic and then my mind wanted to write two completely unrelated stories instead of Viktuuri.
> 
> This chapter is mostly told from Yuuri's perspective and, therefore, it's a lot more reflective than the previous two. We're slowly getting some glimpses into their lives in Hasetsu (mainly focusing on episode four of the anime).  
> I'm going to try and write one chapter per one or two episodes (especially when we reach the competitions). Hopefully, things will speed up very soon.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! And yes, that _is_ a _Romeo and Juliet_ quote as the title. I couldn't resist.

_Hit me, knock me out and let me go back to sleep._

 

* * *

Yuri Plisetsky’s departure, albeit sudden, did bring Yuuri some relief. That one week leading up to the _Onsen On ICE_ competition had been the hardest, most nerve-racking experience of his career thus far.

And yes, it was even worse than when he failed at both the Sochi GPF _and_ the Japanese nationals because _this_ was going to decide whether Viktor stayed with him in Hasetsu to coach him or not.

It was so surreal. Yuuri still could not wrap his head around the fact that it was in fact _Viktor Nikiforov_ walking around his childhood home, skating in his rink, taking a bath in his family’s onsen, sleeping at the end of his hallway, just a few paces away from his own bedroom. All Yuuri needed to do was call his name and Viktor would be there in an instant.

And Viktor... Viktor had chosen _his_ rendition of Eros over Yurio’s beautiful Agape. Yuuri had been rendered speechless when that happened. Viktor Nikiforov saw real potential in _him,_ in Katsuki Yuuri of all people.

Yuuri, who was currently in the onsen, his back to his coach, was brought out of his inner turmoil by Viktor’s voice telling him they should rethink the number of jumps in his FS.

When Yuuri turned around, he was met with the unmistakeable naked body of his coach and promptly turned around again. But the red on his cheeks wasn’t just the result of seeing Viktor naked. One way or another, he had somewhat grown used to his almost constant state of undress.

No.

It was the fact that Yuuri could see some green peeking around the Russian’s right foot. Viktor was stretching, a perfect split that did nothing to erase the red tint on Yuuri’s cheeks, and the foot in question was facing away from Yuuri’s line of vision. But he had got glimpses of it as Viktor walked around the house barefoot.

It was weird. Yuuri had heard of Viktor’s _many_ romantic endeavours but, he had never heard the media talking about the possibility of a soulmate. They speculated, though, _all_ the time. Everyone wanted to know what Viktor’s mark was. And even Yuuri felt curious, the question always dying on his lips every time he managed to see a bit of blue or green.

But he couldn’t possibly ask him. His cultural habits were way too ingrained in his brain. While in other places of the world people would just _talk_ openly about their marks, asked experts to help them decipher them or had actual TV shows about them, in Japan, privacy was still paramount. And when it came to soulmarks, you were especially encouraged to conceal them, which is why he had asked Minako to add some skin-coloured fabric to the inside of his Eros costume after his conversation with Yurio.

Yuuri didn’t know his own sister’s mark, if she even had one. He only knew of his parents’ marks, because he had asked them one day when he was around fourteen, curious as to why most of his classmates were chasing after girls left and right to see if they had got their own marks. He also knew of Yuuko-chan’s, but only because she had freaked out when she saw the black lines on her right calf one day, matching the placing of Nishigori’s mark on the back of his left calf.

Yuuri had been happy for them, although he had to admit he had felt rather jealous that they had found each other so soon, so easily. Yuuri honestly thought he would never get his mark. Now that he knew he had got it but didn’t know in which circumstances, he couldn’t help but feel disappointed.

And seeing Viktor’s mark, which appeared to be _so_ developed already, just made him feel even worse.

A part of him, the hopeless romantic one that used to cry whenever he watched romcoms with Phichit in the safety of their dorm room, wanted to believe that Viktor’s arrival had prompted his mark to develop further. But the more rational part of him told him he was a fool to believe that.

Viktor Nikiforov would never in a million years be Yuuri’s soulmate. _That would be downright ridiculous,_ his brain provided each time he allowed himself to fantasise about it. Viktor had obviously already met his soulmate in Russia, judging by the green flecks Yuuri could see peeking around the other man’s heel.

Suddenly, he felt rather self-conscious exposing his back to a, _still,_ complete stranger as they enjoyed the warmth of the onsen together. He hadn’t felt that way when he was there with Yurio, but now? He just wanted to get out and hide in the solitude and comfort of his childhood bedroom. He didn’t want anyone to see it, not even himself.

Once again, though, Viktor surprised him by praising his skating. Yuuri looked up, feeling helpless, like a doll, as Viktor grabbed his hands and brought him out of the water, as Viktor’s hands guided and positioned his body to match the vision in his mind, as he pressed _impossibly_ close to Yuuri.

They were thankfully interrupted by the curious voices of the other men inside the bathroom, but it did nothing to calm Yuuri’s racing heart.

What had Viktor told him? Music? Yuuri created music with his body? He couldn’t understand the meaning behind his words. Was Viktor getting some of his words confused? Maybe it was Yuuri’s English that was failing him.

Either way, when Yuuri went to bed that night, he kept replaying Viktor’s words in his mind. So, on a whim, he got up and turned his computer on. His leg bounced nervously as he waited for it to boot up, but the moment it did, he opened his browser and looked for the video the triplets had uploaded.

He put on his earphones since it was late, even if the video was mostly silent, and his mind took solace in the calming effect the sound of his blades brought him. It was different from being on the ice itself, of course, but if he closed his eyes, he was able to remember exactly how he felt in that moment while he skated for Yuuko-chan.

Embarrassed, he opened his eyes after he realised he had _actually_ closed them at some point during the video. He sighed and hit play again, taking off his earphones to focus on his movements rather than on the sounds.

Halfway through, he was cringing so bad, he was practically folded in half on his chair. Why had he thought this was a good idea? Viktor hadn’t seen potential: he had obviously seen a lost cause. Yuuri’s movements were ungraceful, his jumps were sloppy, and his all-too-big-for-those-training-clothes body was not helping his overall image _at all._

So, just like the first time when Nishigori had sent him the link, he closed the tab and buried himself in his bed, willing sleep to take him and help him forget that video was there for everyone to see him and his horrible mistakes.

 

* * *

The next couple of days became a bit of a blur. A _grey_ blur that never stopped calling his name.

 _Yuu~ri,_ let’s do this!  
_Yuu~ri,_ let’s do that!  
_Yuu~ri,_ tell me about this!

It was unnerving and was seriously testing Yuuri’s patience. But it mostly made Yuuri feel guilty that he was ignoring Viktor and making him waste his time in Hasetsu when it was obvious that Yuuri’s goal of winning the GPF was an impossible, nearly herculean, task.

On the other hand, Viktor didn’t know how to approach him. Yuuri just kept ignoring him and it hurt. After the competition against Yurio, Viktor thought Yuuri’s confidence was going to at least grow a little bit more, just enough to maybe get him to share his insecurities, what he wanted to accomplish, what he wanted out of his relationship with Viktor.

When Viktor asked Yuuri to go with him to the beach, it was honestly the Russian’s last resort to make Yuuri understand that he _was_ going to stay and help him through this. He realised that Yuuri was still a little bit hesitant, as if he truly could not believe Viktor was there because he believed in him and in his talent.

Yuuri was incredibly surprised when he heard Viktor ask him about their relationship because Yuuri, up until that point, hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t allowed himself to believe that this was going to be more than a mere few weeks before Viktor got bored or grew tired of his lack of progress.

The facts that Viktor wanted to give the relationship a label and didn’t pity him put some rest to the endless supply of doubts in his mind.

Viktor was willing to accept whatever Yuuri wanted to give him, was ready to take any role Yuuri needed him to take, but most importantly, Viktor saw Yuuri as his equal, which was more than a dream come true for him.

And for the first time since Viktor arrived, Yuuri finally accepted that Viktor _was_ actually his coach. It was like a weight was lifted off of both their shoulders that day; whatever tension that had existed relieved and left behind, buried in the sand under their feet.

 

* * *

With a single handshake, they solidified what had only been spoken so far, their bond strengthening, a natural consequence of Yuuri’s trust in Viktor. Both their hearts were beating rapidly but no pain came from the physical contact they shared.

Viktor’s mark was getting more defined, little details appearing here and there. However, Yuuri’s mark was _just_ starting, its shape a mystery still.

His heart sunk with each passing day since he didn’t feel any pain when Viktor touched him casually around the house, in the onsen or correcting his pose while stretching. He thought physical interaction was what made marks grow.

But Yuuri felt his skin burning as each new line or dot appeared only when he skated, which meant that he thought the pain was brought on by practice. His mind was nowhere near the point of being able to associate the fact that the prickling sensation came round whenever Viktor praised him about the way he skated the programmes he made specifically for Yuuri, about his stamina and perseverance at practice, and even going as far as trusting Yuuri’s decisions when it came to the music for his FS.

It wasn’t just the praise that had an effect on Yuuri (and, unbeknownst to him, on his mark). Somehow, it was also the way Viktor said his name.

Yuuri had never thought much of his name other than the meaning behind the kanji which formed it: “yuu” represented the ideas of “bravery, courage, heroism”; “ri” meant “advantage, profit, interest”. And that was it. He had never felt the need to analyse it any further.

It wasn’t until Viktor’s incessant calling that Yuuri’s name began to sound different to his own ears. The cadence, the accent, the emphasis his coach inflected on it depending on his mood and what he was trying to convey... the combination of it all made the way Yuuri’s name rolled off Viktor’s tongue sound _special._ Viktor brought a new meaning to it, but Yuuri couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was.

The way his name reverberated when Viktor spoke those two syllables lived on within Yuuri, making his heart race, seemingly, out of the blue. It didn’t make his back hurt, yet it did send a pleasant shiver down Yuuri’s spine.

And _that’s_ when he understood it, both the new meaning behind his own name and the feeling he felt towards the man that had brought it with him in a blurry grey storm. It was unexpected, of course. But that was Viktor Nikiforov for you.

He lived to surprise the crowd, and Yuuri had always been a part of the audience, whether it was in front of the TV at the Ice Castle next to Yuuko-chan, at his house with Minako-sensei or on the same ice as the living legend himself, Viktor had always found a way to push aside everything Yuuri and the rest of the world believed to be true about him.

Viktor reinvented himself time and time again throughout the years, even now after he decided to become Yuuri’s coach. And Yuuri prayed to whatever deity there was that his time with Viktor lasted, as short-lived as it may be.

Because right in the middle of his FS practice, Yuuri finally found the word which might begin to describe what it was that he felt towards Viktor, towards skating and, most importantly, towards himself. And that word was _love._

Plain and simple.

The only problem with that word was that it wasn’t actually plain nor simple, especially now that he had announced it to the whole world. It brought a new, heavier weight to his shoulders and heart, a type of weight he was not going to be able to shake off so easily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope this wasn't a pain to read since there was a clear lack of dialogue! I realised it halfway through but I just didn't want to disturb Yuuri's internal monologue.
> 
> Let me know what you thought of it ^^
> 
> Feel welcome to come yell at me about YoI over on tumblr: [madamredwrites](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/) ❤️️


	4. A welcomed warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let’s go back to our beloved Russian man’s POV for this one. This is post-episode five, after the Chugoku, Shikoku & Kyushu Championship but before the Cup of China.
> 
> I had over 1k written days after posting chapter 3 but then my brain refused to let me write Viktor's POV and university started, and well, here we are. Sorry about the delay!

_I can laugh all I want, inside I still am empty._

 

* * *

Viktor was standing on the side lines, observing Yuuri as he practised his step sequences from his free skate, but the Russian wasn’t paying too much attention to what the Japanese skater was doing, something that, as a coach, made him feel kind of guilty.

But Viktor had something on his mind, had had it for a while actually.

It all started during the Chugoku, Shikoku & Kyushu Championship a few weeks before when Yuuri had been performing his free skate. It was the first time he had shown the routine he and Viktor had been working on together, and Yuuri had looked absolutely perfect during it, prompting a smile to appear on Viktor’s face, one which refused to leave despite Yuuri’s mistakes throughout the performance.

However, that wasn’t exactly what had caused Viktor to be so distracted.

Despite what everyone thought of him, Viktor wasn’t dumb. Forgetful? Yes, embarrassingly so, but not dumb. He had been thinking, praising Yuuri in his mind, when said man lost his balance and hit his head against the wall of the rink. It had surprised Viktor, of course, but what truly made him start questioning his relationship with Yuuri was the final pose of the routine.

Viktor had been thinking about what he was going to tell Yuuri about disobeying his instructions when it came to the quads of the FS, trying to understand what was going through his mind, what had made him decide to go back to the routine with three quad jumps, when Yuuri finished his performance, pointing in Viktor’s direction.

The dull ache Viktor had felt in his feet, a pain that came from a lifetime spent on the ice, was nothing in comparison to the sharp, intense second during which his heart seem to want to jump out of his chest at the gesture.

He had let it slide for the time being, preferring to focus on Yuuri and the genuine smile he had during the award ceremony. But now, in the quiet of the Ice Castle, as Yuuri glided effortlessly, Viktor couldn’t let it go.

What made matters worse was the conversation he had had with Minako after Yuuri had announced his theme for the season. “Ai”, or love as she had translated for him after they left the resort. He had promised to go pick Yuuri up from the train station, and since Viktor still struggled to remember his way around town, Minako offered to accompany him.

That evening, as they waited for Yuuri to come back at the pretty much empty station, Viktor asked Minako why the press, and the Nishigori family, had looked so shocked after Yuuri’s speech on TV.

Minako regarded him for a second, her face unreadable, before pulling out her phone and looking up the video. In true viral fashion, she was able to find it almost instantly, and soon enough, Yuuri’s passionate speech echoed off the walls around them. The former ballet dancer told him everything he needed to know, and Viktor sat there, an incredulous expression clear on his handsome features as he mulled over the words in his head.

He acted normal around Yuuri once the man arrived, telling him they would burn the horrendous tie he had worn and made jokes, but Yuuri’s declaration was still in the forefront of his mind.

“Yuuri said he realised he was surrounded by love thanks to you,” Minako had told him, followed quickly by, “and that you’re the first person he’s ever wanted to hold on to.”

_The first person he’s ever wanted to hold on to._

Viktor let out a shaky breath as Yuuri attempted a jump on the ice.

_Hold on to._

He couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

Of course, the little interactions they had had, especially the conversation at the beach started to make more sense now, but the fact that Yuuri, the shy, reserved, very private Japanese skater, had told the entire world that he wanted to _hold on to_ Viktor of all people made him feel... happy, overwhelmed, shocked, fearful, a combination which didn’t allow him to sleep peacefully at night.

In the meantime, Yuuri was doing a perfect spread eagle on the ice before skating backwards, followed then by a beautiful Ina Bauer.

And Viktor’s breath hitched again.

Yuuri was absolutely _captivating_ on the ice, drawing attention to himself in a way very few skaters were able to do. Many people praised Viktor’s performances, but even he was aware that he was incapable of doing something like that. Not the element itself, although it was true he had focused more on strength instead of flexibility throughout his career. But that wasn’t it.

Yes, Viktor knew he was commanding on the ice in a way that Yuuri wasn’t. Yuuri made heads turn and caught everyone’s attention in a much more subtle way. Viktor made you look with the sheer force of his skating, while Yuuri’s strength was the feeling he infused into his performances, made clear behind each movement of his body, like a bud finally opening up to become the gorgeous flower everyone knew it could be.

The best part of it all, in Viktor’s opinion, was that Yuuri wasn’t even aware of it or the way his entire demeanour changed completely... his skating was honest, and he bared his soul each time he stepped on the ice.

Viktor, taking advantage of Yuuri’s need for some water, took his turn on the ice, skating in circles for a few seconds. He felt Yuuri’s eyes on him, curious as to what he was doing.

“Yuuri.” Viktor’s voice was hesitant, as if he didn’t know how to phrase whatever it was that he wanted to say. “What were you thinking before you hit your head against the rink wall at the championship?”

That wasn’t exactly what he wanted to ask, but Viktor wasn’t sure if Yuuri would answer his question about the change in the final pose.

Viktor kept his eyes on the ice beneath him, something for which Yuuri was immensely grateful since he could feel his entire face go red at the memory. It was obvious that Viktor had noticed, of course; _he_ had been the one to point out that Yuuri’s mind was often to blame whenever he flubbed his jumps.

And the competition a few weeks before had been no exception. Viktor’s intense gaze and unguarded smile had thrown Yuuri completely off balance as he pulled one of the muscle on his back.

“I— ah...” Yuuri cleared his throat and took another sip of water, stalling. “I was just taken aback by you— the audience’s reaction to the programme, that’s all.” He laughed nervously, hoping Viktor hadn’t caught the slip, and scratched the back of his neck.

“Mhmm,” Viktor said before he attempted the same elements Yuuri had done a few seconds ago, the spread eagle followed by the Ina Bauer.

Viktor heard Yuuri gasp when he recognised the movements from his own programme, but the Russian knew that was just Yuuri’s admiration for him. He knew he couldn’t elicit the same kind of feelings he had had during the competition by merely watching Yuuri.

Resigned by his inability to understand how Yuuri could transform such an already rare element in male figure skating into a thing of beauty, Viktor stepped aside and guided his student through the rest of the programme.

For weeks to come, they continued training as usual, working on building Yuuri’s confidence as well as perfecting the more technical aspects, trying to amp the difficulty to ensure Yuuri got a place in the GPF.

Viktor didn’t want to admit it, and was fairly good at hiding it, but he was scared.

If Yuuri failed, this was on him. The Japanese skater had managed to make a name for himself without Viktor before, and they both knew the press was dying to see if Viktor would run at the first sign of trouble.

There was another type of fear, though, one that ran much deeper than his own possible, personal failure, and that was about his mark, and by extension, Yuuri’s. Ever since he got to Hasetsu, he refused to acknowledge the existence of his mark, but he couldn’t really ignore Yuuri’s when they practically bathed together at the onsen.

Being in Japan after such a long period of time away from home meant that Yuuri had probably found his soulmate. Maybe it was even _before_ he left, but the mark started developing now that he was back.

Viktor tried not to stare, of course. But the more lines he saw on Yuuri’s otherwise flawless skin, the harder it got for him.

Viktor knew. He had known for a while now, but Minako’s words were the catalyst for his realisation: he was falling, harder and faster than he had ever had before.

At times, Viktor thought that perhaps Yuuri had either forgotten all about the banquet, all about the moment he had turned Viktor’s life upside down with his drunken slurs, or he had chosen to pretend it hadn’t happened so as not to make the situation more awkward. Viktor truly hoped it was the latter because he wasn’t sure he would be able to bear the thought of the first option.

He was pulled out of his thoughts, once again, by Yuuri, who was trying to massage his back, it seemed, as they sat on the floor after a quiet dinner.

“Yuuri!” Viktor tried to sound like his usual cheerful self. “What’s wrong? Does your back hurt?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri said. “It has been giving me trouble since the competition. I think I may have pulled a muscle or something.”

“You should’ve said something!” Viktor used his _‘coach voice’,_ as Yuuri had called it once. “Come on, up! Let’s go back to my room so that I can take a look at your back.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Viktor realised what a horrible mistake he had made. He was going to have to confront his fear face to face, so to speak. But he needed to, as Yuuri’s coach. He wouldn’t forgive himself if his own selfish desires got in the way of Yuuri’s career.

So, he swallowed the sudden acidic taste in his mouth and followed Yuuri to his room upstairs.

“Take off your shirt, Yuuri,” he said, trying to appear calm, even if his heart was beating rapidly.

He shouldn’t have felt so nervous... he had seen Yuuri in different stages of undress, including being completely naked at the onsen. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was like a sort of test for him, to see if his heart could deal with what he was about to see.

Yuuri did as he was told and sat down on the grey couch in Viktor’s room, his back to the Russian, as he removed his shirt.

Viktor felt tears prickling at his eyes. He had managed to avoid looking at Yuuri’s mark for a while, it seemed, because now, besides the black lines which had started to take shape, there was colour too. It was subtle, just like Yuuri’s own stunning beauty, but it was there.

Right next to a particularly beautiful, curved, black line, there were the beginnings of a yellow one.

Viktor’s throat closed in on itself, so he settled on a low hum, to let Yuuri know he was still there. He got up, grabbed a bottle of some oil he used on his own sore muscles and poured some of it on his hands.

The room was silent as Viktor massaged Yuuri’s back, diligent, solely focused on the task at hand and most certainly not on the little appreciative sounds coming out of the Japanese man’s mouth.

When he finished, he wiped his hands on a towel he had forgotten to put with his laundry earlier, and Yuuri thanked him, feeling relaxed and content for the first time in weeks, he said. Viktor smiled until Yuuri slid the door closed after he left.

When Viktor heard Yuuri’s bedroom door open and close, he allowed his mask to crumble.

He didn’t realise some tears had started travelling down his cheeks until Makkachin came bouncing from the bed and licked his face. He went to bed shortly after, hugging his dog as a few more silent tears fell.

Viktor knew. He had known for a while now, but he just didn’t care. He would treasure the time he had with Yuuri, however short it may be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want you all to know that, for some reason, I cried writing this chapter. Viktor's thoughts hit me right in the feels.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it! :)
> 
> I highly encourage you to come yell at me about YoI over on tumblr: [madamredwrites](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/) ❤️️


	5. A leap of faith

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _*climbs out of her hiding place*_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Hiiii! I'm alive, yeah! Just been busy with university, work, life and other ideas swimming around my head. As always, I apologise for keeping you guys waiting.
> 
> Enjoy one, long-ish, chapter all about the Cup of China (episodes 6-7)! The chapter is told mostly from Yuuri's POV, but the focus does shift between the two from time to time. And... I think that's all I needed to say!
> 
>  
> 
> _*crawls back inside her hiding place*_

_I guess, I remember every glance you shot me._

 

* * *

_The race to the Grand Prix Final is in full swing!_

_So far, we’ve only seen the locals taking Gold for their home countries with Leo de la Iglesia at Skate America and Jean-Jacques Leroy at Skate Canada. Will the same thing happen with Guang Hong Ji, Skate America’s Bronze medallist, at the Cup of China? Or will some of the other favourites be able to break through and climb their way to the top?_

* * *

Having dinner with Phichit and Celestino after his allotted practice time at the rink and the interviews with the press was as unexpected as it was pleasant. Yuuri hadn’t realised just how much he missed seeing his best friend until they went their separate ways upon reaching the hotel.

After leaving Viktor in his room and setting his alarm clock so that he wouldn’t sleep through their morning practice time because of his hangover, Yuuri went down the stairs to the floor below to his own room. There, leaning against the wall next to his door and looking down at his phone, stood his best friend.

“Phichit-kun?” Yuuri asked, his voice hushed so as not to disturb the other guests since it was getting late.

“Hey, Yuuri.” He smiled and put away his phone, turning to give Yuuri his undivided attention.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were going to go to sleep once you put Celestino to bed,” Yuuri said, curiosity getting the best of him, and opened the door, flicking on the light as the two of them walked inside.

“Yeah, but you know I’m a light sleeper and he’ll be snoring for at least an hour before he’s actually dead to the world.” Phichit shrugged as he shed his jacket and sat down on Yuuri’s bed, his back against the pillows. “So... Viktor Nikiforov is your coach, huh? How did _that_ happen?” It was the same question he had asked Yuuri numerous times before over video calls and texts.

Yuuri had to look away from his friend’s grin; he was actually scared it may split his face in half. He pretended to fix his toiletries, comb and hair products on his desk, even though he had already done so earlier before practice.

“Look, I don’t even know myself-”

“Yuuri! You can’t possibly expect me to believe that Viktor Nikiforov, the living legend, five-time world champion, Russia’s beloved-”

“You don’t have to quote his every nickname, you know?!” Yuuri felt himself blush as Phichit recited them, but his friend continued, undeterred.

 _“-prince_ just showed up at your family’s onsen out of the blue and offered to be your coach! I understand that’s the official story you two are going with, but after dinner tonight, the way he was hanging off of you... do you think I’m blind? I’m your _best_ friend!” Phichit took a deep breath as he finished his little speech. It seemed those thoughts had been nagging him for a while.

“I know that! But it’s not... like _that_ between us.” Yuuri turned around, forgetting all about the stuff on his desk and plopped down on the bed next to Phichit.

“What do you mean?”

“Just that. Our relationship is one of a student and his coach, and that’s it. It’ll never be more, Phichit-kun.” Yuuri’s voice got smaller and smaller with each word.

“Yuuri.” Phichit’s tone went from playfully annoyed to a more serious one. “The way he looks at you and touches you... that’s not something you can write off as a simple coach-student thing.”

“That’s just Viktor’s personality. He’s... flirty and touchy-feely with everyone. I’m not special.” His hands were busy tugging at a loose thread from his training shirt.

“Stop that.” Phichit took one of his hands in his own and started rubbing soothing circles on the back of it. “From the look on your face, I take it is not just a celebrity crush on your end anymore?”

Phichit’s eyes shone in the fluorescent overhead lights of the hotel room and his sincere expression made Yuuri feel safe, his mind travelling back to all of those nights in Detroit when Phichit would help him through the aftermaths of a failed date or even just a bad day for Yuuri, mentally speaking.

“Phichit-kun... I... I tried _not_ to let my feelings grow but I just don’t know what to do,” he managed to choke out, tears falling quickly down his cheeks. It was always like that for him. Once the dam broke, there was no going back.

“Shhh, come ‘ere.” Phichit let go of his hand in favour of wrapping his arm around his shoulder while he took Yuuri’s glasses off with his other hand, carefully placing them on the night stand next to him.

It went on for quite a while. Yuuri crying helplessly against Phichit’s chest while his friend tried to calm him down the best he could. Once his breathing went back to normal, even if his tears refused to stop, Phichit got up and gave him a couple of tissues from his Makkachin holder.

“Feel any better now?”

“A little bit,” Yuuri confessed, laying down on his back, Phichit doing the same. The bed wasn’t big by any means, but they had done the same thing plenty of times back in their small dorm room in Detroit to be comfortable being so close to one another.

“May I ask what brought on this ‘I’m not special’ thing? You know he sees you as your equal, right? You told me yourself after that day at the beach.”

“Yeah, it’s just... What’s the point of me feeling like this when I already know he has a soulmate back in Russia?” Fresh tears started making their way down to his pillow.

“Are you sure about that? Did he tell you himself?” Phichit turned on his side to look at him, handing him more tissues, but otherwise giving him enough space so that Yuuri wouldn’t feel invaded.

“He didn’t have to say anything. I saw his soulmark, okay? Or at least parts of it. Plenty of times. It’s on his right foot.” He let out an empty laugh and added sarcastically, “it’s blue.”

“You’re kidding?” Phichit knew of his friend’s preference for the colour personally - even though he never did reveal why he had always had such a fixation with the colour -, but any of Katsuki Yuuri’s fans knew about it since most of his costumes throughout the years had a blue-coloured detail somewhere. “And what about you? Have you got your mark?”

Yuuri nodded before sitting up. Phichit mirrored his position and was surprised when Yuuri removed his shirt to reveal the mark on his back.

“Yuuri...” Phichit’s hand moved out of its own accord, silently tracing the now slightly thicker black lines that loitered Yuuri’s back, and though the mark was still shapeless, yellow was starting to take over the left side of his spine, right below his shoulder blades.

“I-I haven’t seen it in a while, you know? I can’t bring myself to. Knowing that I got my mark but having no clue when or where or with whom, for that matter, it’s even more depressing than acknowledging the fact that Viktor’s had his for so many years.”

“So?” Phichit asked, his hand falling on the bed and his voice getting louder than before, his emotions taking over for a second.

“What do you mean ‘so’? He has had his mark for _years_ and now I have mine, we’re obviously _not_ meant to be. And even if we were, I’m not-”

“Don’t you _dare_ say you’re not worth it, Yuuri! You damn well know you are! You’ve been working towards this goal, of standing on the podium as Viktor’s equal, your entire life.” Phichit voice softened as he went on. “And so what if he got his mark before you?! How do you know it wasn’t your admiration for him that did it?”

“Right,” Yuuri scoffed and shook his head. His best friend was clearly losing his mind. “Let’s say that, _yes,_ sure, it was my stupid infatuation with the guy that made him get his mark who knows how long ago with _oceans_ and however many _miles_ in between us. Even if that insane scenario _were_ true, I got mine and never came near the man before he showed up at my house. How do you explain that?”

“You were together at the Sochi GPF last year. It could’ve happened in the blink of an eye and you wouldn’t have even noticed with how nervous you were.” Phichit shrugged, clearly not understanding Yuuri’s logic. “You know soulmarks don’t follow rules. The very fact that it’s _‘your soulmate’s favourite thing about you’_ proves that! It could be anything! Don’t try to find reason behind any of it.”

“How can you be so sure?” Yuuri asked him, putting his shirt back on.

“It’s obviously different for each person but the one thing in common I’ve heard of is that it feels like you’re being pulled towards them, your paths somehow intertwining, right? You built your _entire_ career on the ice thinking of catching up to him. If that’s not enough to put a mark on the guy’s foot, I _don’t_ know what is.”

“Again, even if that were the case, what impression could _I_ have made on him?” Yuuri’s heart had started beating rapidly and his mouth felt incredibly dry. Somehow Phichit’s point of view on the matter filled his mind with hope, slowly getting rid of the fog that usually plagued his everyday thoughts regarding Viktor.

“Don’t know. But tomorrow, when you’re not near him doing interviews and practising, try to see if you crave his presence. Being with your soulmate, touching them and kissing them, is supposed to be addicting. Maybe the answer has been there all along and you just haven’t noticed.”

With that, Phichit stood, grabbed his jacket and walked to the door, prompting Yuuri to get up as well.

“Thank you, Phichit-kun. Even if it all sounds completely impossible and far-fetched.” Yuuri allowed a small smile to take over his features, which his friend returned fully before hugging him tightly.

“Don’t let your mind fool you, Yuuri, and look for the signs. I saw plenty after spending just two hours with him... and, even if it’s not meant to be, who says you can’t enjoy Viktor’s company?” He winked and went towards the lift down the hall, leaving a flustered Yuuri behind.

 

* * *

The day of the short programme dawned, and Yuuri was beyond nervous. The fact that _everyone_ stopped by to talk to Viktor, begging him to come back during the second half of the season, was causing his anxiety to spike, especially after seeing Phichit’s post about their dinner the night before.

However, despite his nerves and worries, Chris and Phichit’s comments were still going around his mind as he warmed up both on and off the ice.

Chris had basically accused him of keeping Viktor from the world of figure skating when he was obviously very much sought out still, pressured into coming back by fellow skaters, coaches and the media. Every time he looked at Viktor chatting with someone, his heart hurt, as if someone had just stabbed a knife through it, and then he would hear Phichit’s voice asking him...

_“So?”_

That was what made him change his mind before his SP. Yuuri was fully aware that he would never in a million years be able to satisfy those who wanted to see Viktor back on the ice or even the people supporting him. And on a more selfish whim, deep down, he also knew he wanted everyone to know that he, Katsuki Yuuri, was the one who stole Viktor away.

So, when Viktor asked him to seduce him with his own charms, Yuuri decided to lace his fingers with Viktor’s and show the world that the man on the other side of the barrier was his; even if it only lasted the one season, Viktor was only meant to watch him and him alone for the duration of it.

“Don’t take your eyes off of me,” Yuuri told him, boldly, fuelled by his own desires, and lifted his forehead from Viktor’s, skating away without looking back because he trusted his coach to be be following his every move.

He could feel Viktor’s gaze boring a hole in his back as he greeted the cheerful crowd.

Yuuri felt so giddy he could’ve laughed in the middle of his routine; he was drunk with the knowledge of being the reason Viktor left. For the first time in his life, he felt powerful and comfortable in his own skin. And everyone wanted to see it, the new him, this new and improved Yuuri that both he and Viktor had worked so hard on over the last few months.

But Yuuri was greedy; winning wasn’t going to be enough this time around. He wanted to show them that he was the only one capable of satisfying Viktor, the only one who truly knew Viktor’s love, his own doubts and insecurities. He needed to be perfect to prove them all wrong, to prove everyone - and himself - that he actually deserved to have Viktor by his side.

_106.84_

And he did. He finished the first day of the competition in first place and with Viktor’s arm secure around his shoulders as they made their way back to the hotel.

 

* * *

That night though, after a quiet, celebratory dinner and a few pointers from his coach, Yuuri went back to his room to talk to his family and friends back at home...

But, instead of allowing their words to fuel him further and to instil more confidence into him, all he felt was insurmountable pressure because now people were expecting him to _win,_ to execute his free skate perfectly.

Needless to say, he practically didn’t sleep the night before the second day of the competition. And, despite Viktor’s efforts to help him rest - surprisingly, Viktor’s slow and even breathing lulled him into a peaceful, dreamless land almost instantly -, his nerves only got worse as the day progressed.

He managed to calm down slightly once Viktor took him away from the media and the TVs broadcasting Guang Hong’s strong performance. Yuuri could feel his confidence from the first day rapidly fading away. He was falling down an abyss of self-doubt as his worries overtook his mind while he practised his choreography for the umpteenth time in the parking lot beneath the arena.

What would happen if he failed?

He took off his ear plugs to ask Viktor exactly that and, unfortunately, heard the loud cheering coming from the crowd above them in the process.

He was shaking like a leaf and felt paralysed. He was so out of it, he didn’t even see Viktor jumping in front of him to cover his ears and was startled when he yelled at him not to listen to the crowd.

Viktor was trying to shield him from the screaming because he feared an even stronger bout of anxiety creeping up. He couldn’t understand what it was that made Yuuri feel that way after years of competing internationally, but what was worse was that he didn’t know what to do to reassure him of his talent. In that moment, his immaturity as a coach shone like the sun when he uttered the words that he came to regret almost instantly.

For a second time during the Cup of China, Yuuri’s tears rushed down his cheeks as he stared at Viktor, not believing the words that had just met his ears.

_Viktor will leave me? After everything I’ve done, after so many hours of practice and sacrifices, after I- after I opened up my heart to him and accepted that I’m... with someone else’s soulmate._

“Yuuri, I’m sorry, I was kidd-”

_No! This is not how it’s supposed to be. I’m okay with failing on my own but, tarnishing Viktor’s name in the process?_

Viktor didn’t know what to do. He didn’t do well with people crying in front of him, he had spent so long protecting his fragile heart from possible breakage that he had become... somewhat desensitised to it all.

“Just have more faith than I do that that I’ll win! You don’t have to say anything! Just stand by me!”

“Yuuri...” was all Viktor managed to say as his student hastily rubbed at his eyes, making his way out of the parking lot, and he realised there was a ringing in his ears that hadn’t been there before the outburst. As Viktor followed Yuuri and watched him tie his skates, he understood what it was.

Right as Yuuri stopped yelling, silence fell on them like a blanket, but something within Viktor snapped, an old, already cauterised wound opened up, breaking the carefully crafted walls around his heart. The feeling taking root within the confines of his chest was raw and it was bleeding, seeping into every cell of his body, ultimately taking over his brain and making him feel dizzy as he stood there in front of the rink.

Yuuri remained silent as he took off his jacket and safe guards, stepping onto the ice and avoiding eye contact with him. And Viktor felt as lost as the day he stepped out of the airport looking for a taxi to take him and Makkachin to Yuutopia.

What was the appropriate thing to say? _‘I’m not leaving you’?_ Was that something a coach would say? The lines had blurred so much in the past ten minutes that Viktor wasn’t sure where they stood anymore and just watched helplessly as Yuuri blew his nose.

He leaned down so as not let the tissue fall on the ice and was surprised to feel Yuuri’s finger against his hair before Yuuri patted the top of his head. He looked up, confused, a gloved hand pressed against the spot. Strangely, he felt... relief wash over his entire being at that little gesture. Was Yuuri trying to bring him comfort? Reassure _him?_ Was he smiling as he began skating? What the hell was Yuuri thinking about?!

It truly didn’t matter in that moment.

As always, Viktor’s gaze was glued to the way Yuuri glided across the ice, just like everyone else in the audience. The entire arena cheered after his jumps and then fell silent immediately after since one of the most beautiful combination of elements was about to take place right before their eyes and right before-

Yuuri had to touch the ice during the triple axel and then he stumbled during the jump combination.

But it was fine, Viktor thought. Yuuri had still managed to make the whole world hold their collective breaths for a few seconds, admiring his innate talent and beauty.

And Viktor... Viktor watched as Yuuri kept moving almost flawlessly, kept him focused, grounded, just to make his heart rate pick up as Yuuri did an unplanned quad flip at the _end_ of the programme. Yuuri fell, but it didn’t matter because it was _his_ quad flip. It was _Viktor’s_ signature jump!

* * *

_My theme in this year’s Grand Prix series is “love”_

_Viktor is the first person I’ve ever wanted to hold on to_

_Just stand by me_

* * *

Viktor didn’t care.

He didn’t care who knew.

He didn’t care if Yuuri was his soulmate or not.

He didn’t care if his heart got broken at the end of it all, whenever that may be.

All he could focus on was running, running towards the one man who had shattered every single expectation and thought he had ever had about life, love and figure skating.

He ran towards his only hope and took a leap of faith, consequences be damned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for quoting a bit of dialogue in this chapter, but they felt necessary to move the plot forwards.
> 
> Also, I wanted to give a little bit more information about soulmarks but I'm not sure I managed to do so successfully. Let me know if you'd like to read more about that and I will make sure to include more explanations in the next chapter!
> 
> Come yell at me about YoI over on tumblr: [madamredwrites](http://madamredwrites.tumblr.com/) ❤️️


	6. A moment of calmness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place between the Rostelecom cup and the Grand Prix Final.

The door rattled, but the sound was drowned by the melody that could be heard playing on the other side.

“It’s… locked.” She was baffled beyond belief.

“What do you mean it’s locked?” came the incredulous reply.

“Check for yourself if you don’t believe me,” the first one offered and stepped aside, giving her sister some room to try too.

“It. Won’t. Open.” Each attempt was emphasised by a huff at the end of each word.

“I didn’t even know this door _had_ a lock…” said the third sister, perplexed.

The triplets looked at each other for a brief second before the three of them took a deep breath at the same time and, _“Mu_ _~~~_ _m!”_

“Girls!” Yuuko exclaimed, seemingly materialising out of thin air, and approached them from around the corner. “What on _earth_ do you think you’re doing?! Yuuri is practising in there.”

“We know, mum!”

“We wanted to see him skate!”

“Yeah, the Grand Prix is just a month away and-”

“Enough!” Yuuko whispered, angrily, and the three children cowered in front of the door, trying to use each other as a shield. “Yuuri asked for a private practice today so you’re not allowed to interrupt him.”

She was turning around, about to go sit behind the counter, when the complaining started again.

“But, _mum!_ Please! We won’t say a word!”

“Yeah, we won’t say anything!”

“Not even when Yuuri eventually flops one of his jumps!”

“Axel!”

“What? You gotta admit, mum, it happens at _every_ practice-”

“I said _enough!_ You’re not allowed in there and that’s the end of the discussion!”

With a final, stern look in their direction, Yuuko walked back to the counter and plopped down on her stool to continue cleaning a few pairs of boots, which were still salvageable, albeit old.

The triplets exchanged another look and had to hide their smirks behind their hands.

Operation “Sneak into Yuuri’s private practice” was a _go._

 

* * *

“Yuuri! You’re distracted today! Come here,” Viktor beckoned him. He looked a little exasperated with Yuuri’s absent-mindedness but still gave him exactly what he wanted and needed: a kiss.

It had become a routine of sorts: _Kiss._ Warm-up. Glide. Jump. _Kiss._ Praise. Hug. Loving gaze. _Kiss._ And repeat.

Their every interaction, so long as there were no eyewitnesses, was marked by a soft brush of lips nowadays. And Yuuri couldn’t get enough of it.

“Addicting” was the word Phichit had used to describe being near your soulmate. “Insatiable” came a lot closer to what Yuuri felt whenever he got the opportunity to taste Viktor’s seemingly endless supply of kisses. It was as if he wouldn’t be able to survive going through the rest of the day if he didn’t get his fix.

Feeling so much, so deeply and just so... _fast_ was truly terrifying. Yuuri had dated a bit back in Detroit, but he had never experienced something like this; he had nothing to compare it to when it came to the sheer _intensity_ of it all.

Of course, at the same time, he was happy. Ridiculously so. He couldn’t possibly stop himself from smiling randomly during the most mundane of tasks, like brushing his teeth and getting distracted by his own lips, remembering how Viktor had kissed him - deep and desperate - one night.

It had been difficult to depart, getting lost in the feeling of Viktor pressing him up against his bedroom door. It had taken a lot out of Yuuri not to follow Viktor back to his own room. He had thrown himself onto his own bed and screamed into his pillow to release some of the frustration, not to mention the quiet moment he had had with himself in the bathroom after a few hours of tossing and turning. He swore he had heard rustling and a whisper of his own name when he walked by Viktor’s door but, he knew it was probably the exhaustion making him hear things.

Despite the newness, happiness and fears, anxiety and doubts still clouded Yuuri’s mind.

This _thing_ that he now shared with Viktor didn’t have a proper name and it was eating at him. The media had thankfully laid off their nagging - they still didn’t know what had happened in China… had the couple actually kissed for the whole world to see? - after a few threatening smiles and dismissive comments from Viktor himself, but Yuuri didn’t dare speak a word about it with him.

Ultimately, though, he felt selfish.

Not the kind of selfish before his SP in China but rather a more guilty kind of selfishness swam around his head and gave him trouble to fall asleep most nights.

And yet, he kept on taking. He took whatever Viktor gave him, regardless of what it did to his own fragile heart, which jumped a little in his chest each time their lips met, tasting of coffee or tea after breakfast and right before they headed down to the rink.

His poor heart, which beat rapidly when their kisses turned to something else, something rawer, with wandering hands, soft gasps, whispered names and promises of more, more, _more._

His sorrowful heart, which wept alongside him, as if the tears could patch up the gaping hole Yuuri felt whenever he had to watch Viktor walk away from him. A wound that only had run deeper when Yuuri himself sent Viktor back to Hasetsu to attend to Makkachin during the Rostelecom cup.

It was devastating, but Yuuri could see Viktor’s pain in his eyes. It was the right thing to do, even if it drained him to be separated from him so suddenly. The absence of his coach - and partner? - made itself known when he stepped onto the ice for his FP. Yuuri felt lonely and, after his performance, guilty for butchering the programme they had worked so hard on.

It was only when their eyes met at the airport back in Japan that Yuuri’s restlessness finally abated. He felt warmth spread to the very tips of his toes and he just _had_ to run to him, politeness and proper behaviour dropping to the last place in his list of priorities in that moment.

The emptiness which had taken root inside Yuuri’s chest halfway through the competition, the one that not even Yurio’s thoughtful gesture of _pirozhki_ managed to get rid of, was only filled when he stepped into Viktor’s embrace again.

The connection, the soft words and the strong arms wrapped around him made him feel safe but, most importantly, _loved._

He had known what Viktor’s love tasted like for a while now: sweet. A kind of sweetness that made him feel drunk. Drunk enough to utter the words he had been dreaming of saying for months - years, if he was being honest with himself. Words which meant stepping into unknown territory.

* * *

_Unharmed, I'm losing weight and some body heat._

* * *

Yuuri blushed, from both exertion and embarrassment as the thoughts flooded his mind, and backed down from a jump, easing his way into the next step sequence instead. Viktor paused the music immediately, and Yuuri grabbed onto his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Need a break already?” Viktor’s voice, Yuuri had learned, typically held a certain teasing quality. Especially when they were alone.

He narrowed his eyes as he accepted the water bottle Viktor handed him when he approached him on the other side of the rink and then proceeded to take a seat on the bench there.

When he had more or less recovered, Viktor threw a clean towel to his face and laughed at Yuuri’s indignant squeak.

“Don’t tease me! Whose fault is it that I went to bed so late last night, huh?” Yuuri tried to hide his flaming face behind the towel as he uttered the question.

“Did you even sleep?” came the quick reply. Viktor didn’t even try to come up with a funny retort. He obviously wasn’t worried by the fact that they were both running on fumes now or that this practice session wasn’t really going to be all that productive.

When his ears were met with silence, Viktor winked and took off his blade guards before stepping onto the ice.

And Yuuri’s gaze, as always, fell on Viktor’s elegant form.

He truly was a sight for sore eyes, just like every single magazine article and cover proclaimed he was. But this… this was solely for Yuuri. It was a privilege he hoped he would never have to give up, as childish and naïve as it may sound.

Viktor moved, and Yuuri’s mind did so with him, recreating scenes from the past couple of months: from the airport after the Rostelecom cup and his hushed confession in their hotel room, to last night and the soft gasps which had escaped from both their mouths.

* * *

_Eyes closed so hard, I stopped your heart from beating._

* * *

_“Yuuri!”_

It took him a bit by surprise, but really, he should have guessed that Viktor’s way of loving was a mirror of the man’s personality he had come to know: passionate and unrestrained.

Yuuri got lost in it, as many times as their bodies allowed them to until sleep overtook them. Or rather, until it overtook Viktor.

He typically stayed up and just… watched him, taking his time to explore Viktor’s vulnerable features in the near darkness. He could forget about soulmates and marks at nights if it meant he got the opportunity to commit this very moment to memory.

He eventually fell asleep, of course, his head pillowed in the hollow of Viktor’s neck, a warm arm around his waist and a strong heartbeat underneath their entwined hands.

* * *

_So deep that I didn't even scream, fuck me, I…_

* * *

_“-uri! Yuuri!”_

Viktor’s voice cut through the haze of his thoughts and he came back to reality. He shivered in the cold, and his coach took notice.

Once more, a simple gesture from Viktor was enough to make Yuuri’s body move forwards until he fell, almost limply, against Viktor’s strong frame. They stayed like that, engulfed in each other’s warmth, until Yuuri stopped shaking.

Only then did Viktor dare to talk.

“Have you thought about your gala exhibit yet?” he asked softly, his lips brushing against Yuuri’s temple as they glided aimlessly through the rink, hands entwined as if in a perpetual dance.

“To be honest, I haven’t been able to find anything I like, music-wise,” Yuuri sighed. The Grand Prix Final was fast-approaching and he had nothing. “I could always just… repeat an old exhibit. People don’t really care that much.”

“Okay, we’ll look for some songs later, then, and practise an old routine of yours as a plan B next time. For now, though, let’s just…” Viktor trailed off, took the remote for the sound system out of his pocket and pressed play.

A very familiar melody enveloped them as they started goofing around on the ice, lifting each other up and skating together, perfectly synchronised.

As Viktor twirled and dipped a giggling Yuuri, an idea popped into his head. An idea that, had he been living in Russia still, would have been blown to smithereens by Yakov’s usual wrath towards his unconventional schemes.

He would have to stay behind a little bit longer today to figure some things out and make a few calls but, if Yuuri’s soft smile was anything to go by, Viktor was sure he was going to be on board with what he had in store for him.

Viktor felt such happiness, he couldn’t resist the urge to kiss Yuuri senseless, right in the middle of the rink.

They were both so distracted by the music and the moment they were sharing, they didn’t even register the sound of the door opening.

 

* * *

“Yes!” came a victorious whisper from Loop.

“Shush! Or mum is going to hear us!”

“Please, Lutz. She didn’t even notice when we stole the spare keys from the back room. We’ll be fine,” said Alex dismissively, already walking ahead of her sisters, camera in hand.

The triplets ventured into the rink area, the chilly atmosphere making the three of them huddle closer together.

When they saw the two pairs of guards discarded near the closest exit, they had to suppress a squeal of joy. They practically ran to the gate in question and peaked around the edge of the wall, their eyes moving frantically around the ice to find the couple.

This was sure to become viral twice, nay, thrice as fast as their video of Yuuri had if they managed to record it. Even if it was just a few seconds, if the video featured Viktor and Yuuri skating _together,_ it would mean so many views!

However, what they found was not what they were expecting.

Their jaws dropped when they realised what was really happening between Viktor and Yuuri. They stayed like that for long while, a moral debate taking place in each of their heads. A voice - which sounded suspiciously like that of their mother’s - scolded them for sneaking around behind everyone’s backs and catching the couple at an obviously private moment.

Even if it was just a (heated) kiss, it would mean confirming what the entire skating world was still speculating about.

In the end, they slowly backed away, their quick steps muffled by the music, which was still playing in the background. They closed the door gently, locked it and returned the spare keys to the back room.

The adults were none the wiser.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... am not even going to try and justify that year-long hiatus. It's 1.24 am and can't look at this anymore.
> 
> Let me know if you liked it!
> 
> *throws smoke bomb and fades into the darkness*


End file.
